Otto, the Superhero
by Rosa C. Ross
Summary: Otto survives, again. What has he lost, and what has he gained?


What if Otto survived, and his voices disappeared? What if Otto gained something from his failures after all?

As should be evident, Otto is not mine, and I own nothing in Spiderman 2…although, I do own the coat that looks like it was from the movie. Otto is copyright of Marvel, and whoever made the movie…..

"In "Multiple Personality Disorder" the problem is not "Multiple Personality" but "Disorder," which I don't have."

-Starling the Synx

Introduction: Mind Over Madness.

Power surged through his mind, severed his deepest desires from his psyche, and gave them a form. The tentacles. They were his servants once, but they became him. And then, he tricked himself into believing these pieces of metal, these claws, could speak. He was guilty for every crime that they committed, because they were nothing but extensions of his body, doing only that which he asked them to do. Spiderman, Peter, showed him the truth. Otto and Doc Ock were one and the same, the only difference being that Otto kept his desires in check, while Ock was nothing more than desire. Desire for fame, for money, for power. If only Otto knew it before destroying everything he loved. He looked down into the water from which he dragged his unconscious body. He no longer needed to lift his head-even his body no longer needed to move. The tentacles were his eyes, arms, and legs, all in one. Strange, how the tentacles could see such detail, while his own eyes had betrayed him-he could see every scratch on the surface of the claws, and the lenses that stared back at him seemed almost comforting in the blackness of the water, reflected as if in some huge, obsidian mirror. Not like his real eyes, that saw nothing but blurry, shifting images, no, the lenses of the tentacles saw everything, including his own faults. Otto turned the tentacles to look at his body-he did not look like a human being anymore, lying there, coat ripped to shreds, arms covered in bruises, cuts, and in some cases even boils. Then, something inside him snapped. He was nothing! It was all for nothing! He snatched off the coat, and furiously hit the tentacles with his flesh-and-blood hands. He was a monster! He screamed at his inner mind, at the tentacles, at himself. He tried to hit the water with his tentacle, but slipped and the tentacles supporting him fell back into the water with a splash, crashing his back against the pebbles of the beach. Feeling a bit ashamed of himself for acting so childishly, he said to no one in particular:

"So, I'm still very much Doc Ock, the criminal, without home or family, hunted by every police officer in the city." He stood up, groaning in pain. He felt like he was a cross between a boiled lobster and a punching bag, which, he noted, was not so far from the truth. If only I did not make those supports so strong, he thought. If only he did not steal, or hurt people, or…

_I shouldn't worry so much. That's what gets me. I need to relax, and deal with what's important._

He could now play the role of both himself and the tentacles. This felt almost unnatural, but Otto decided that it was better than being controlled by his own Id. Perhaps, the programming that made the tentacles into manifestations of his innermost thoughts was changed by his giving up on the project, and he was now free, reasoned Otto. The voice, after all, was his own, not some cold, alien gibberish that invaded his mind since the first Accident.

"What should I do now?"

_How about I go for help? Or, at least find someone who can try to help…..like Spiderman. He helped before, and saved me from that robotic thug, and from my own mind…._

"Let's go find Parker then."

Otto put on his "coat", andhid the tentacles under it, but as he took the first steps, a strange sensation made its way up his spine. He did not need to search. The address was suddenly in his head, as well as directions from the docks over to Parker's apartment. Using his hidden "asssistants" to see, Otto began his journey, hoping Peter was at home.

Otherwise, I may need to break the door with my "eyes"…. 


End file.
